


It Had To Be You

by StainedGlassDreams



Series: Earth, Please Come In, Over [20]
Category: Bucky Barnes: The Winter Soldier (Comics), Captain America - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fate, Love, bucky is stubborn, buckynat - Freeform, speakeasys, timing, winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:57:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4658772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StainedGlassDreams/pseuds/StainedGlassDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky relives his past, in a piece of it... Ghosts in the back of his mind, & ones he never wanted to leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Marion Harris- "It Had To Be You", & how perfect a portrayal it is to Bucky & Nat's current situation....
> 
> How Nat gets her memories back, coming soon... :)
> 
> Thanks so much again for the comments & kudos, hope you guys enjoy :)

Once upon a time, in a rainy bar, just like this one. This miserable, old speakeasy that was quelling & tempting back old memories like a familiar tune (or punishment, really), he danced to this damn song.

"With all your faults, I love you still..."

It was in their apartment.

No, not going there. He downed another shot. He was already punishing himself enough. There were limits, even the ones he pushed.

"Why don't I try to forget?..."

Think of another instance. Come on, this song is nearly 100 years old Buck, you had to have heard it elsewhere.

The jazz singer continued, the just right balance of smoke & mystery mist pouring from the piano.

He did hear it somewhere else. In his apartment, his first one.  
The record scratched faintly, he sat on the bed, Betty Walkind from Delancy getting dressed. "You like Marion??"  
"Mmhmm. Steve got it for me."  
She sighed dreamily, her brunette curls turned slightly toward the phonograph. "Aw, lucky girl who gets to dance to this..."  
She looked up to see Bucky's hand outstretched to her. "Well. May I have this dance then, Ms. Walkind?"  
She positively lit up, like those Broadway marquees. "Oh Bucky!"

Betty was nice girl, beautiful & kind as Apple pie. All American gal.  
But the brunette curls were turning to red again.

"Who knew you had such good dancing shoes, James?"  
A smile that was Times Square on nights when only lovers were only there to watch it.  
"You never asked."  
"Must've been all those Fred Astaire movies."  
He dipped her. "Perks of living this long."  
Perks of living this long with someone who could under-

He closed his eyes. The bar came into focus again, along with the dull ache.  
The bartender looked at him. "5 shots of my best bourbon. Gotta say bud, I admire you."

"& even be glad, just to be sad, thinking of you...."

"Thanks." He said quietly.  
The man winked, pouring another. "On the house kid."  
"Thanks.".

He tried to drink this one slower. Make his brain try to believe he could get inebriated. Then again, Steve drank a whole bar after he fell, and that did him as much good as drinking awful tasting water.

".....You know, I don't think it was good ol' Fred."  
"Really? Gene then?"  
"No." He spun her in their kitchen. "Just the man. ....Lucky girl."  
He shook his head. "No.", James said, kissing her gently. "Lucky time gave me you."

"For nobody else gave me a thrill...."

He left a $20 tip with the tab & left.

He could already hear Daisy in his head, cussing him out for staying down here so long, to punish himself further.  
"Stubborn fool", she'd be saying.  
He walked to the nearest alley. Not stubborn. Just a lucky idiot once.

He transported back to the ship.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha goes out for a walk to get out of her head, & into a speakeasy of an old friend...

Honestly, the singing wouldn't leave. The ghost was just leering at her in the corner, to the point where even Liho was getting confused with Natasha having intense staring matches with what appeared as the wall, to everybody else.  
She had to leave, taking her keys & going for a walk.

It was a rainy night. Miserable & lonely.  
Honestly, it made her think of Paris but she couldn't figure out why.  
Came with that freaking unknown happiness associated with her mystery ghost again so she left it.  
Left it in Russian winters, & warm nights.

She stopped. "Clarence's Nightclub" the sign read.  
She waited. Clarence was an old friend, who owed her a few favors (that she would never ask to be repaid).  
She could hear the sultry jazz singer.  
She descended into the back.

Didn't mean she couldn't ask for a few pours of vodka.

She walked toward the back entrance, hopping a gate.  
It said nightclub, but the place was ancient. His great-uncle was one of the owners, opened during the roaring 20's as a speakeasy jazz heaven.

She knocked the code.  
Also prohibition "fuck you" quarters but who was asking?  
"Who is-" the door opened to see a middle aged man. "Natasha Romanoff. What a nice surprise."  
"Hey Clarence. How've you been?"  
"Not bad." He peeked out the door. "Should I..."  
"No, no. Just have a night off."  
He smiled. "You deserve it. Come in."  
"Thanks Clarence." Nat replied.

The bar was quiet for a Friday, just a few patrons, & an awfully sullen looking figure at the bar.  
She was about to take another look before the man with many favors gave her a hug. "Natasha, so good to see you."  
She returned it. "You too Oli. How's the bar?"  
"Still kicking. You?"  
She nodded her head. "All well for now."

The jazz singer of the night began to come on, taking a seat as light applause started. "Pull up a table, Margaret's a new chord here. Could sing the alphabet backwards and I'd still have her."  
Nat sat. "Thanks Oli. How much is a -"  
He shook his head. "Consider it Russia's independence.", winking.  
"Might be a bad comparison." She smirked slyly.  
"People can dream." He said, patting her jokingly.

She settled herself, watching as Margaret started.  
She hadn't had a night to herself in a long time. Some of the girls, including Bobbi and Sharon had tried, but she gave the same answer.  
So to have this, a veil of just enough smoke from the piano, it was nice.

"Why do I do just as you say? Why do I sigh? Why don't I try to forget?"

......She frowned slightly.  
Another minor headache came on as a memory came. No notebook.  
Someone dipping her. Her saying that her "ghost" actually could dance.  
Whether it was intuition or the damn memory, something was whispering to look again at the depressed figure at the bar-  
"Bottle of Russian water," Nat was shaken out of the thought as Clarence brought her the drinks. "Courtesy of Russian Indepence Day." He smirked. "I know, bad joke."  
Natasha tried to smile back, still lost in some unknown timeframe.  
"Call me if you need anything else, or a nice guy." He winked kindly again before heading back to the back door.

"...For nobody else gave me thrill..."

Natasha looked at the floor for a moment.  
......That.... That definitely felt real.  
She suddenly got up, heading to the bar.

She walked up, turning around the figure.  
"Doo I know yer, lady?!"  
".....Sorry." Natasha apologized, only out of being polite as he smelled like a bad Brooklyn night.  
"Hey Oli, guy over there gave me $20 tip. Nice guy, but couldn't get drunk. Looked kinda depressed about it." She overheard the bartender say.  
"Huh. Lucky guy." Oli replied.

Nat stood there for a moment. A thought crossed her mind, frighteningly.  
Maybe she confused the familiarity. That annoying itch was intuition, yelling at her that that man was...

No. She frowned inwardly as she went back to her table.  
Couldn't be.

"Wonderful you.... Had to be you..."

Even more frighteningly, was the other possibility.  
That the itch was familiarity, the whisper natural intuition & the pang that was unexpectedly growing in her heart (?)....was regret.

Applause started as the song finished, & the memory rose from the snow & rain.

If it was....The guy was a lucky idiot.

**Author's Note:**

> "Why do I do just as you say  
> Why must I just give you your way  
> Why do I sigh, why don't I try to forget  
> It must have been that something lovers call fate  
> Kept on saying I have to wait  
> I saw them all, just couldn't fall till we met
> 
> It had to be you, it had to be you  
> I wandered around and I  
> Finally found the somebody who  
> Could make me be true, could make me be blue  
> And even be glad just to be sad thinking of you  
> Some others I've seen might never be mean  
> Might never be cross or try to be boss  
> But they wouldn't do
> 
> It had to be you, it had to be you  
> I wandered around and I  
> Finally found the somebody who  
> Could make me be true, could make me be blue  
> And even be glad just to be sad thinking of you  
> Some others I've seen might never be mean  
> Might never be cross or try to be boss  
> But they wouldn't do
> 
> For nobody else gave me a thrill  
> With all your faults I love you still  
> It had to be you, wonderful you  
> Had to be you..."


End file.
